


Another Stupid Love Song

by TheLibranIniquity



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Developing Relationship, F/M, allusions to canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-02
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 00:27:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLibranIniquity/pseuds/TheLibranIniquity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“That's the trouble with watching cop shows,” Rodney grumbled. “They don't prepare you at all for real life.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Stupid Love Song

**Author's Note:**

> Everything I know about American law enforcement and police procedure I learned from Law & Order, Dexter and Life, for which I apologise most profoundly.
> 
> In other news this was written for argosy in the 2010 sticksandsnark exchange on livejournal, in which she asked for earth au romantic comedy and/or adventure, any time period. I can't do rom-com to save my life, but I have done my best with the adventure side of things. At least I didn't try to blow up any planets this time around. The title is a riff on a Kelly Clarkson lyric... I think. I can't really remember.

_On confrontation the suspect ran along the south bank of the river, attempting to use the surrounding foliage as cover to evade capture. The uniformed police and I intended to cut him off at the bridge less than half a mile beyond our initial position, but by the time we reached the pass_

“No!”

Teyla stared at the now blank screen of her laptop, her fingers still typing the report she had been reciting in her head. “No, no, no...” She started hitting other buttons – any buttons – trying but failing to elicit a response from the machine. After more than a minute the screen remained blank and Teyla conceded defeat, slumping forward and trying to think what other course of action she could take to retrieve her report.

Only then did it occur to her that instead of being bathed in dim lamplight, she was surrounded by darkness. And everything was quiet – even the usual whirring of kitchen equipment had disappeared. She couldn't hear anything from outside the apartment either – nor were there any lights in the windows of the building opposite hers.

Grabbing the bantos rods that rested at the end of her sofa, Teyla climbed over the back of her furniture to investigate. A power cut was the obvious explanation, the rational part of her mind offered – the irrational part on the other hand was not so quietly clamouring sabotage. Perhaps a relation of the criminal she had arrested today...

No. She shook that thought from her mind as she prowled through the rest of her apartment, confirming as she went that all of her electrical appliances and equipment were indeed dead. Rudy Momsen was a common thief who enjoyed entering and thieving the residences of lonely, elderly citizens who had no ability or recourse to fight back. There had been nothing in his profile or history that suggested he knew anybody capable of killing the power supply to a specific area of the city, much less a single apartment within a larger building.

Satisfied that with the obvious exception of the darkness and non-functioning appliances that things in the apartment were as they should be, Teyla returned to the living room to retrieve the laptop and power cable. Back at the front door to her apartment she left one of the bantos rods just inside the alcove beside the door and left the door itself on the latch. Her destination was only a few metres down the hallway, and she reasoned that should there be anybody daring enough to enter her apartment illegally she would hear the intrusion quite clearly.

Despite the late hour, she could hear noises inside the neighbouring apartment. Its sole occupant adhered to no set routine that Teyla had ever been able to decipher, and right now it was something she was profoundly grateful for.

She knocked on the door.

Instantly the noises inside became more pronounced, more rushed, perhaps more panicked. Teyla hoped she had not disturbed her neighbour unnecessarily. After a few moments the noises grew louder and louder, and a few moments after that the door in front of her opened.

Teyla's neighbour stood in the doorway, blinking owlishly at the dim emergency lighting in the hallway before turning to focus on her. His gaze was surprisingly intense.

“Hello, Rodney,” Teyla said. She held up her laptop and its adjoining cable. “I was wondering if you could -”

“Teyla?” Rodney squinted at her. He blinked a couple of times and switched his gaze to the laptop. “Why are you showing this to me?”

“It crashed,” Teyla said. “It died when the power did.” 

“There's a battery,” Rodney replied slowly, as if he were talking to a child.

Clearly patience would be required here. “Yes, but the battery has not worked in months. The laptop only works when it is plugged into a live power source.”

“Don't you have warranty? Insurance? Some way of conning the collars at work into getting you a new one?”

“No,” Teyla replied, simply. “But I was in the middle of something when the computer died, and I was hoping you could recover the data for me.” She jiggled the laptop about a little to help make her point.

Rodney blinked a few more times. Then his shoulders slumped and he stepped back from the doorway and motioned her in. Teyla took a breath and followed him inside.

“My office is down here at the back,” Rodney said. “I, uh, I think I have a torch around here -”

Teyla stepped away from the door and almost stumbled over something very hard right by her foot. She used her free hand to reach out and almost smacked it against the wall trying to support herself.

“Oh god – hey! Are you alright?”

“I am fine,” Teyla said. She ran her hand down the wall, the motion helping her calm and regain balance. After a few seconds she stood up properly again, tightening her grip on her laptop, relieved she had not dropped it.

She felt and heard rather than saw Rodney move in closer to remove the offending object from the floor. “I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. Clutter's not usually such an issue for me, but -”

“The lights are not on.” Teyla smiled despite herself. “It could not be helped.”

“Yeah.” Rodney sounded sheepish now. Teyla felt a hard object being pushed into her free hand. It was a small flashlight, and she fumbled briefly before finding the switch and pressing it. She swung the light around to make out Rodney standing beside her.

He looked... just as she had ever seen him. Slightly unkempt clothing without being scruffy, a little rounded at the edges – a symptom she had always assumed was from an office or desk based profession. Swinging the light a little further up, Teyla noted that Rodney had not shaved today, and he looked tired.

“Hey.” Rodney gave her a little smile. He motioned behind him. “Uh, shall we?”

Teyla nodded, and followed him through the apartment, which was just as overloaded as the hallway. There were shelves full of books and boxes and jars and other trinkets that adhered to no apparent pattern or sense of organisation. Loose papers and cables and other things were everywhere – dangling over books, hanging off shelves and some strewn all over the floor.

Right at the back of the apartment was Rodney's office. A tiny room dominated by a large desk with what looked like several computers of varying sizes – and all of them in pieces – and even more of the assorted paraphernalia that had decorated the rest of the apartment. Rodney probably considered the room cosy, even inviting, but with the both of them in here it was close to claustrophobic.

Rodney rummaged around behind one of the computers and pulled out what looked like a desk lamp. Teyla aimed her flashlight at it while Rodney fiddled with it until it gave off a surprisingly bright light. “Battery powered,” Rodney explained, setting it down at one end of the desk. “Always have a contingency.” He motioned for Teyla to give him her laptop, and while she watched he pulled out a tool kit from behind another computer and started to work.

Teyla folded her arms across her chest and resigned herself to watching Rodney. Although she would not call herself completely useless when it came to technology, she and it had never been on the best of terms, and now only highlighted that situation.

“The battery's completely fried,” Rodney commented eventually. “Seriously, how can you work like this?”

“With a great deal of patience?” Teyla offered, and grinned when she saw Rodney smile at her comment, even as he kept working.

“So, uh, I heard another kid went missing last week,” Rodney said, after another protracted silence.

“Yes...” Teyla regarded Rodney for a moment, even though his attention was wholly on the underside of her laptop.

He seemed to catch the tone of her voice, and looked up. “I, uh, I mention this only because it seems like something you would be involved with,” he said quickly. “Are you involved with it?”

After a moment's hesitation, Teyla replied: “No. I was... removed from the case some time ago because of... 'conflicting interests'.” Even now the phrase sounded distasteful. “Now I am assigned cases of lower priority.” _Like chasing low level thieves along embankments_ , she mentally added.

“That doesn't seem fair.” Rodney was distracted by... something he had pulled out from the laptop's casing, holding it in his hands like a surgeon preparing to work. “What does that mean, anyway, 'conflicting interests'?”

Teyla mulled over the answer to this for a minute. “We have someone we are very interested in for the abductions,” she began.

“But?”

“But... one of the missing people is an ex-boyfriend of mine, and my superiors are concerned that would somehow influence my efforts to find the culprit.”

Rodney looked up, surprised. “You have an ex-boyfriend?”

Teyla stared at him. “What?”

Flustered, Rodney started back-pedalling. “I mean – you – I – I've never seen you date.”

“We are neighbours, Rodney – casual acquaintances,” Teyla said. “How would you know whether I date or not?”

“Just...” Rodney sighed, and his shoulders slumped again. “You always seemed to have high standards. I guess I always assumed when you found someone, it would be – you know... permanent.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry,” Rodney said – again. “I don't always think before I speak. Bad habit, really tough one to break. So, not working the big case that's getting all the press love and attention, huh?”

“No, although I do not resent the exclusion simply because it is prominent in the media.”

“Yeah.” Rodney nodded. “Weirdly enough, I get that.”

“You do?”

Rodney looked at her again, and again with surprise on his face, although of a different kind this time. “Do you know what I used to do for a living?” he asked.

Teyla could honestly say she had never given the issue much – if any – thought. “No,” she said out loud.

All she got in response was a tight smile and a loud out take of breath. “I used to head a research team at the local university,” Rodney explained eventually, still working on the component he had removed from the laptop, but his movements had slowed down, become more methodical. “Astrophysics. That's what I am, really – an astrophysicist.”

“Wow,” Teyla said automatically.

Rodney nodded. “Not just any astrophysicist either – back then I was considered to be at the top of my field. I argue I still am, but that's beside the point.”

“What happened?” Teyla asked, not sure she was going to like where this was going.

“Eh, the department head decided he didn't like my particular brand of genius. I was having too many ideas, apparently, and none of them beneficial to the department's bottom line.” He shrugged. “It all comes down to money in the end. Fun fact of the universe. So now I freelance, work out of here.” He motioned at the cramped space around them. “Bit of this, bit of that – even teach a couple of night classes at the university, just to rub Kavanagh's face in the fact that I'm still relevant.”

Teyla smiled. “Pragmatism is not necessarily a bad thing,” she offered, thinking of her own superiors and the slowly stalling search for Kanaan and the other missing people.

“No,” Rodney admitted, “but being a pragmatist and an asshole probably is.”

At that Teyla laughed out loud, and after a moment Rodney grinned – not just a smile but a full blown grin. Still smiling, he pulled yet another computer out of a drawer and handed it to Teyla, along with a memory stick, and rummaged in yet another drawer. From that one he pulled out a power cable and placed it on top of the computer in Teyla's arms.

“I pulled everything off your laptop's hard drive, put it on the memory stick,” he explained. “The file you were working on should be wherever you normally save those things in a recoverable format.”

“And the computer?” Teyla asked.

Rodney made a dismissive motion. “I'll need some time to sort yours out. Seriously, big mess – no one should be forced to work like that, even you. In the meantime, this little netbook has no password – yet – but there's plenty of software on there and aside from that the hard drive should be mostly empty. Battery should be full, too, which'll keep you going for a few hours at least.”

Teyla was overwhelmed. “I cannot take this, Rodney, I -”

“Sure you can,” Rodney said. “You need something to work on while I fix your computer up, and it's not like I'm using that one anyway. Look,” he said, catching the expression that must have been on her face. “At least this way you can still do your lower prioritised work at home and I've got something to keep me occupied in between other jobs.”

“I...”

Rodney sighed. “If it makes you feel any better, consider it a whopping huge favour, okay?”

“Yes,” Teyla nodded emphatically. “I will do that.”

“Good,” Rodney said, that odd little smile back again. Just then the computers lining Rodney's desk burst into life, lights appearing and whirring noises filling the small office. “Oh hey, looks like the power's back on,” he commented.

“Yes,” Teyla agreed. “It does.” Awkwardly, her arms still wrapped around the new computer and cable, she handed Rodney his flashlight back.

“Oh, thanks.” Rodney pocketed it. “I'll, uh, I guess I'll see you out then,” he said, all of the precision and confidence he had displayed handling her computer and telling her about the new one seemingly gone.

“Very well,” Teyla nodded. “And thank you again.”

“Sure,” Rodney replied. “Anytime.”

o o o o o

Two days later Detective Teyla Emmagan of the Lantean Falls Police Department sat at her desk, bored out of her mind. She had completed the rest of the paperwork from the Momsen case, ably helped by the netbook Rodney had lent her, and since delivering the final report to the Lieutenant nothing else had come her way.

In fact, it seemed that she and her partner were the only two police officers in the entire building not doing anything; virtually everybody else had gradually segued over into the abduction taskforce, leaving just the two of them to wallow until somebody else in Lantean Falls decided to break the law.

“Hey, Lorne!” The Lieutenant stuck her head out of her office. “Get down to dispatch and help organise the search parameters for the missing girl. Chuck claims he can't do it on his own anymore!”

“Uh...” Teyla's partner looked from her to the Lieutenant a few times. “Just me?”

“Just you. And do I need to repeat myself?”

“No, ma'am.” Lorne had already climbed out of his chair and had begun neatening his already immaculate desk. “I'm on my way now.”

“That's what I want to hear!” The Lieutenant was already back inside her office, attention directed elsewhere.

Lorne shot Teyla an apologetic look, hands spread wide even as he backed away in the direction of the elevators.

“In fact...” The Lieutenant had appeared again, files in hand and this time focused on Teyla. “Detective Emmagan. A moment in my office, please?”

“Of course.” Teyla rose from her chair with considerably more grace than Lorne had just shown, and followed the Lieutenant back into her office. She was reading the files, but motioned for Teyla to take the nearest chair.

Teyla sat.

“Detective,” the Lieutenant began. “Teyla.”

“Lieutenant Carter.” Teyla wasn't sure where this was going.

Carter smiled tightly. “I know you want in on the abductions and quite frankly I'd be remiss if I didn't involve you – but you know why I can't.”

Teyla inclined her head. Now she knew where this was going; they had been danced to this particular routine several times before, usually when Carter began to feel especially guilty about procedure and the fact that none of the abductees – including Teyla's ex-boyfriend – had been found.

“That said,” Carter continued, “there is something you can do while everybody else is involved with the taskforce.”

Teyla waited.

Carter held out the files she had been holding. “We've had several reports of domestic break-ins around the times that the last two abductees were taken,” she began, after Teyla had taken the files. “Brass doesn't think they're related, but I'd like you to look into them anyway, just to be sure.”

At least it wasn't an unimaginative thief this time. “You said break-ins,” Teyla said slowly. “Were there no thefts involved?”

“Apparently not,” Carter replied. “Just people reporting open windows, doors off their latches. Indications that strangers had been in their property without anything being disturbed or taken.”

“I see,” Teyla said. She quickly counted the number of files she had been given. Six. “Do you want me to work this one alone?”

“For now,” Carter nodded. “We're ill-equipped for an investigation of this current magnitude as it is, and unless you find it absolutely necessary I'd rather Lorne work the abductions. I'm just sorry that you can't.”

Unsure of how to respond to that without repeating herself from previous meetings, Teyla instead grasped the files a little tighter and rose from her seat. “Then I shall work the case I have been assigned,” she said as evenly as she could manage. “Lieutenant.”

“Detective.” Carter nodded her dismissal. “Good luck.”

Back at her desk, Teyla spread out the front page of each file, which each contained the information dispatch had about the original contact – names, addresses, basic contact details. The addresses all appeared to have no approximate geographical proximity to each other, and idly Teyla wondered if there was any way to prove or disprove any connection with the abductions without drawing on any more resources from the already stretched police department. It wasn't just manpower it had been draining – everything was backlogged, from forensics to IT.

Something else was needed in order to give her a clear starting point. And Teyla thought she knew just the man. She pulled the telephone closer to her and dialled.

After precisely four rings the line picked up. _“I'm starting to think you don't want me for my looks, after all.”_

Ah, the wonders of caller ID. Teyla smiled into the earpiece. “I never implied anything of the sort, John,” she replied. “Something you well know.”

_“Absolutely. So, what can I do for you today, Detective?”_

Teyla pulled the nearest header sheet up in front of her. “I was wondering whether you had heard anything about a series of break-ins recently.”

_“There are always break-ins, but break-ins aren't always newsworthy,”_ John pointed out. _“What's so special about these ones?”_

“At the moment, I do not know,” Teyla admitted.

_“Okay...”_

“There appears to have been nothing taken from the properties in question.”

There was a pause. _“Nothing disturbed at all?”_ John asked. _“Just the points of entry as the only points of disturbance?”_

“Yes – how did you know that?” Teyla asked.

John drew in a loud breath. _“Meet me for lunch, Detective. Usual place.”_

He hung up.

o o o o o

The small diner by the courthouse was empty when Teyla entered it, and as soon as she pushed her way past a group of frazzled looking business suits she found who she was looking for.

John Sheppard was reclining in a booth at the very back of the diner, long outstretched legs enabling him to take up the entire space and prevent anybody else from sitting with him. In contrast to the diner's other patrons, mostly courthouse employees, he was wearing faded jeans and a t-shirt with a logo Teyla didn't recognise on the front. There were two glasses in front of him. He obligingly withdrew his legs from the empty seat as she approached.

“Everyone seems on edge,” John observed, looking over Teyla's shoulder as she sat down.

“You can hardly blame them,” she replied.

“True enough,” John acquiesced. He pushed one of the glasses towards her.

Teyla folded her hands on the table and waited.

“Okay, okay.” John took a swig from his glass and set it back down again. “The break-ins.”

“The break-ins,” Teyla agreed. “What do you know about them?”

“Personally, not a lot. Like I said, break-ins don't tend to be newsworthy.” John paused and looked sideways at Teyla, presumably drawing the moment out for some sort of dramatic effect, and she had no intention of playing along. “Except for the ones that don't get reported.”

Teyla frowned. “How do you mean?”

“I mean...” John paused again, this time as if to think about how to proceed. “I've... heard a few rumours of pseudo-break-ins, around the same time as some of the others, but they never got reported.”

“Rumours,” Teyla repeated.

John shrugged. “My sources come in many shapes and sizes, Detective. But the thing about the break-ins I've been hearing about is that they've been happening to the same people.”

No. Teyla shook her head. “Repeating such an offence in the same place is very uncommon.”

“I know that,” John replied. “I watch cop shows too. But think about it,” he pressed on. “People report break-ins within days of the abductions, except they're not break-ins. Just signs that someone tried to enter, but didn't quite make it -”

“- and the last two abductions took place in the victims' homes,” Teyla said slowly. She shook her head again. “This is far too circumstantial. And besides, nobody would risk attempting multiple kidnappings over a series of nights. That is, if that is what these break-ins are – failed abductions.”

“Or dry runs,” John suggested. He looked at her for a moment. “What are you going to do next?”

“I do not know,” Teyla admitted. “Even if the break-ins are somehow connected to the abductions, proving that based on hypotheses alone will be difficult. And there are simply not the resources to investigate the matter properly.” She pushed the glass John had given her back towards him and got up from the table. “Thank you for your insight,” she told him.

“Sure,” John said, his expression indecipherable.

“And thank you for lunch,” Teyla added wryly.

She turned and left the diner.

o o o o o

“I'm sorry, Detective, but we're just too backlogged at the moment. I can't help you.”

“Look -” Teyla floundered briefly for the name of the newest addition to the LFPD's technical division. “- Amelia. All I am asking for is a few minutes of your time to help with -”

“And I would love to help you, ma'am, I really would,” Amelia interrupted, rubbing the back of her neck, “but I've got forensics to collate, crime scene reports to round up.” She started indicating piles of CD-ROMs and files of different colours and sizes. “Names and locations to cross-check.” She shook her head. “Until Chuck gets back from the second floor I'm on my own down here. I'm sorry,” she repeated.

Teyla suppressed a sigh and left Amelia to her work. She'd known that the priority would be on the abductions, but she had at least hoped there would be room to slot her case in somewhere.

Back at her desk she stared blankly at the six case files in front of her. Much like the incident with the power cut and the laptop crash had shown that she did not possess an over-abundance of technical expertise, the current situation – being more-or-less forced to work entirely on her own on a single case –

That was it.

Teyla fumbled around in her bag for her cellphone and made it as far as both thumbs poised over the keypad before realising she did not know – or have written down anywhere – the number she needed.

Moving as quickly as she could Teyla scooped all the case files into her messenger bag and switched her computer off. Lieutenant Carter was still in her office, this time on the phone to someone and speaking in agitated tones as Teyla stuck her head in and mouthed that she was off to follow a lead on her case. She couldn't tell if Carter got or even understood the message, but the older woman nodded at her even as Teyla all but dashed to the elevator, part of her hoping her hunch was going to work out.

o o o o o

Teyla knocked on the door, each time resisting the urge to hammer on it with a fist. Despite all of her training and instincts she couldn't shake the sense of urgency building up inside her.

Several long minutes later the door opened and immediately Teyla was greeted with a verbal barrage. “- better be really important, Zelenka, or I swear I'm gonna -”

“You are going to what?” Teyla asked, curious despite herself.

Rodney started, and stared at Teyla like he had only just realised who was at the door. “Teyla? What – what are you doing here?”

Quietly and precisely Teyla explained the situation – the case Carter had assigned to her, the lack of available and immediate resources at the police department.

“Okay...” Rodney looked sceptical. “And what do you need me for? I'm not a cop.”

“No,” Teyla said, “but you are good with computers. I thought – hoped – that if you were not busy you could help me find a pattern in the break-ins.”

“Like a geographic profile?” Rodney asked, and the surprise on Teyla's face must have been evident because he then added, almost defensively: “I watch cop shows.”

“You are the second person to say that to me today,” Teyla replied in amusement, even as Rodney moved aside once more to let her into his apartment.

In daylight the place could not have looked more different. Instead of presenting dangerous obstacles, the clutter that lay about everywhere just seemed typical of the university researcher Teyla had only recently learned was Rodney's previous occupation.

Something else that was different was that instead of being led to to the cupboard-like office at the back of the apartment, Teyla found herself in the living room – which also doubled as an apparent office space. What looked like a series of desks sitting end-to-end took up an entire side of the room, and again covered with computer components, books and assorted bits and pieces. The only other pieces of furniture in the room were a battered looking sofa, colours faded and worn at the edges, and a baby grand piano, which also looked as though it had seen better days.

“Oh, yeah – sorry about the mess,” Rodney muttered. He darted back out of the room and quickly came back in with two folding chairs, which went up at one end of the elongated desk. Sensing the invitation, Teyla took one of the seats and removed the case files from her bag while Rodney powered up one of the computers.

Beside the computer was a small photo frame with a picture of an attractive blonde woman smiling at somebody off-camera. She was holding a small child in her arms – her daughter, perhaps, since there was some resemblance between the two.

Rodney must have seen her looking at the photograph because he said: “That's Jeannie.”

“It is a nice picture,” Teyla said. She wondered absently who the woman was in relation to Rodney. An ex-girlfriend, perhaps, although that did not explain the child – but even as she wondered that she realised that she had no basis for knowing whether Rodney was a father or not. As she herself had already said, despite being neighbours they did not know each other especially well.

“Yeah,” Rodney said, and that almost wistful little smile appeared on his face again. “She's my sister,” he explained. “We, uh, we lost contact for a few years – well, that was mostly me, but we got in touch again recently. Trying to work things out between us.”

Clarity dawned. “I see,” Teyla said. “That must be your niece?” she asked, just to be sure.

“Yeah,” Rodney replied. “Madison. She thinks I'm great,” he added, sounding both awed and surprised by that sentiment. “Anyway,” he continued, adopting the business-like tone that Teyla quickly recognised. “You wanted some kind of geographic profile, right?”

“Yes.” Teyla felt slightly – and oddly – bereft at moving away from the more personal topic of conversation but ignored it in favour of the more important needs of the case. She handed the files to Rodney and briefly explained John's suggestion that some properties, and their owners were being revisited and the possible connection with the abductions.

After that it didn't take Rodney long to pull up a map of the city and start overlaying the locations of the break-ins that Carter had given to Teyla, and at her reminder he included a timeline as well, charting exactly when each break-in had taken place in relation to the recent abductions.

Just as when he had taken Teyla's laptop apart to recover the data she had lost, Rodney now displayed a calmness and self-assurance that Teyla had not even considered that he could have possessed. Gone was the impression of the loud, more than slightly mad, night-owl professor, and in his place was someone quick, efficient and to the point. The difference was remarkable.

And Rodney was working at a speed that would have put the technicians back at the LFPD to shame. After just a few minutes of tapping away at the computer, occasionally referring back to the case files between him and Teyla, Rodney made a small noise, drawing Teyla's attention.

“What is it?”

“This.” He gestured at the screen, where an icon on the city's roadmap was flashing brightly.

Teyla frowned. The icon referred to a residence which – she checked the files – belonged to a schoolteacher named Halling – just Halling, no other name given – who had reported coming home one evening to find two first floor windows open and the back door on the latch. In keeping with the M.O. of the other break-ins, nothing inside the house had been taken or disturbed in any way.

“According to this,” Rodney said, “this guy's due a revisit from whoever's responsible for the break-ins. In theory,” he added hastily. “It's a possibility.”

“But one worth investigating,” Teyla said slowly, remembering what John had said about the unreported repeat 'visits'. She ran through the possibilities in her mind. Lorne was off-limits until further notice. And given that this was all complete conjecture until proven otherwise Teyla suspected that any formal request made to Lieutenant Carter for resources or back up would be at best delayed quite severely.

Rodney was nodding, his attention flickering between the computer screen and Teyla. “So... what's next?” he asked, the hesitance and nervousness back as quickly as it had vanished before.

Teyla took her time considering this. Caution was paramount, naturally, but of equal importance was that growing feeling inside her that this was somehow more important than she knew.

o o o o o

“That's the trouble with watching cop shows,” Rodney grumbled. “They don't prepare you at all for real life.”

Teyla show him a sidelong look. “It was your idea to accompany me,” she pointed out. “If you wish to leave...”

“No, no!” Rodney held his hands up in front of him. “I'm good.”

“Good.” Teyla smirked. “Do not spill crumbs in my car.”

Rodney clutched the bag of donuts he'd been holding even tighter against his chest. “On my life,” he retorted, not a little sarcastically.

“Good,” Teyla repeated, resuming her watch on the building in front of them. She and Rodney had been parked outside the Halling residence for almost six hours, and in that time nothing out of the ordinary had happened, unless of course you counted the fact that Rodney had shown up less than twenty minutes after Teyla had found a semi-covered location from which to observe the house, a bag of donuts in one hand and two bottles of water in the other and asking if he could join in. He had provided no reason for this other than he'd heard stakeouts were fun, and if Teyla's partner couldn't be a part of it he didn't see why he couldn't either.

In honesty Teyla hadn't the heart to refuse him. She quite literally would not be here without him, after all, and there were no protocols barring civilians from participating in stakeouts – and Teyla was reasonably confident that if challenged she could make a most convincing argument for Rodney's presence as an off-the-book consultant.

Not that she had been thinking about her colleagues' possible reactions to her genius neighbour volunteering to spend six hours in a car with her. At night. On a job.

“Can I ask you a question?” Rodney said eventually.

Teyla inclined her head. He could definitely ask.

“I know you said your ex-boyfriend was one of the people who'd gone missing,” Rodney began slowly, “but that doesn't seem like solid grounds for having you removed from working the case. Are your bosses just completely paranoid about personal connections to the cases, or – I don't know, I'm sorry, I -”

“It is fine, Rodney,” Teyla said quietly. “I was not entirely truthful with you before. Kanaan and I...” She sighed. “It is complicated.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Rodney offered. He looked over at Teyla, that crooked little smile back on his face again. 

Teyla nodded. Breathed deeply a few times and focused her gaze back on Halling's house, where there was still absolutely nothing happening.

“I have known Kanaan for most of my life,” she began. “Our fathers were very close friends, and so were we as children. His parents died when he was ten, and he entered the foster system; after that we did not see each other for many years.”

“But you got in contact again?”

“Yes.” Teyla smiled. “We attended the same college; a very happy accident.”

At the mention of college Rodney's attention perked up. “What did you study?”

“Anthropology,” Teyla answered. “But I did additional courses in criminal science during that time.”

Rodney looked very much as if wanted to question her further on her degree, but seemed to restrain himself.

Before she could say anything else something across the street from her caught Teyla's attention. “Did you see that?”

Rodney jerked around. “What? Where?”

Teyla reached into the glove compartment for her service weapon. “I think someone is attempting to break into the Halling residence.”

“Really?” Rodney's expression danced between amazement and fear. “I was right?”

“It would seem so,” Teyla said tersely. She holstered her weapon and reached for the radio. Before she turned it on she fixed Rodney with the sternest gaze she could muster. “You will stay here and remain quiet,” she told him.

“Oh yeah.” Rodney was fixated on the house across from them. “Not a problem.”

Teyla quickly radioed into the station; dispatch assured her a patrol unit was in the area, would be redirected to her location and would be there quickly.

She shot Rodney one last, placating look before climbing out of the car and quietly shutting the door behind her.

Across the street, the Halling residence looked dark and devoid of activity. There was a low wall separating a thin strip of garden from the pavement, and she climbed over it with ease. The front windows of the house looked undisturbed, and following a trail from a nearby streetlight, Teyla tracked around the side of the house, one hand resting on the tip of her weapon.

A loud crashing noise got her pulse racing. Fighting a sharp, audible intake of breath, Teyla slipped right around to the back of the house.

There. Right there in front of her was an open window – just like in the reports she'd been given and now knew almost by heart. From inside the window's room Teyla could see pale light, possibly from a table lamp – or a flashlight.

She unholstered her weapon and moved closer, all her attention focused on the open window.

Just as she reached out to touch the window frame, Teyla was surprised by movement off to her right. She swung around, gun outstretched in front of her. “LFPD!” she called out as a warning.

In the shadows she could see someone moving towards her from an open doorway. “Freeze!” she said.

The intruder moved towards her, cutting off what little light was coming out of the window. He – he? - raised his hands, casting an unsettling silhouette in front of her.

“I surrender,” he said mockingly. 

Teyla frowned, but before she could say anything someone else came up from behind her and pressed a sweet smelling cloth against her mouth. Instantly her mind clouded up, and she was dimly aware of police sirens from what seemed like miles away, along with equally distant voices.

_“Leave her.”_

_“But -”_

_“I said – leave her!”_

Teyla thought dimly that she recognised one of the voices, but before she could properly complete the thought, everything went dark.

o o o o o

Teyla woke up in hospital, surrounded by bright lights and the beeps and whirrs of machinery. Eventually her vision came into focus and she saw two people in white laboratory coats talking at the bottom of her bed.

A grunting noise to her right turned out to be Rodney, bent awkwardly over the side of the bed and snoring loudly, using both his arms as a pillow.

“Oh, hey – welcome back, Detective.”

Teyla turned back to one of the laboratory coats, squinting and struggling to think clearly. “What happened?”

The doctor – a young woman – smiled. “You were knocked unconscious; a simple sedative, it's still in your system but we'll have it flushed right out in the next few hours,” she explained. “Just lie back and get better; we'll take good care of you.” She smiled again and moved away, taking the other doctor with her.

“Thank you,” Teyla murmured, trying and mostly failing to remember what had happened. She turned back to her other side. “Rodney?”

Rodney snored.

“Rodney?” Teyla tried a higher pitch, which only served to give her a headache.

“Hmm? Wha?” Rodney picked himself up slowly from the bed. “You're awake.”

“Yes,” Teyla smiled.

Rodney stared at her. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I have been knocked unconscious,” Teyla said slowly. “I do not remember what happened.”

Rodney smiled uncertainly. “You interrupted an abduction in progress,” he told her. “Getting past you slowed them down, by the time they got back to the main road the cavalry had arrived. And I stayed in the car, just like you said.”

Teyla frowned. “Did we catch them?”

“Not this time,” a new voice said.

Teyla looked over to the doorway. It was Lorne. He gave her a sympathetic look and came into the room properly. “They left the victim – Halling – unconscious in the front garden and ran. The patrol unit who got there first couldn't keep up with them, plus it was dark, so...” He shrugged. “But,” he added, “it's a major break in the case, so it's not being written off as a complete loss.”

“How is Halling?” Rodney asked. When Teyla frowned at him, he shrugged. “What? The guy got drugged the same as you did, and almost got kidnapped. And I know you're going to be okay.”

“He's fine,” Lorne said, amusement colouring his features. “He's a couple rooms down, in about the same condition as you,” he told Teyla. “His kid's in with him now.”

Teyla nodded. “So what happens now?”

“Now.” Lorne looked at her for a moment. “Carter's going to swing by in a few hours and inform you that you're on medical leave for two weeks. Softer way of suspending you, and she thought it would be best if I broke the news to you first.”

“Suspension?” Rodney said, incredulous. “But she -”

“Yeah, I know,” Lorne replied. “But the LT's got to do something to appease the higher ups and removing Teyla completely from duty is the only way to do it, hence the softer headline of medical leave.”

“I can live with that,” Teyla said.

Lorne smiled. “Oh, and someone from the D.A.'s office is going to come by in a bit as well, see if you can remember anything from last night that hasn't yet made it into the reports.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I think it's the hot A.D.A. they're sending out.”

Teyla rolled her eyes. “If you are not careful I will set the two of you up on a date myself,” she warned, although she suspected Lorne would not have any issue with that course of action.

Sure enough, Lorne's only response to that was another grin, shyer in nature this time, although Teyla was sure she was the only one who could see that. “Let me know when you're going to be released,” he said, “and I'll come give you a ride home.”

“That, uh, that won't be necessary,” Rodney told him, looking as surprised with himself as Teyla felt. “I live right next door to her, I can take her home.”

“Okay, McKay,” Lorne grinned. “Teyla,” he nodded at her. “Feel better soon, and let me know when you're let out anyway.”

“I will,” Teyla replied.

Lorne flipped her a half salute and shot one more amused look at Rodney before leaving.

“So that's your partner,” Rodney commented.

Teyla nodded. “Evan Lorne. He is a good person,” she added.

Rodney nodded. “So, um, this is probably really bad timing, so feel free to say no at any point, but...” He trailed off uncertainly.

Teyla moved her head so that she could look straight at him. “What is it you wish to ask me?” she asked gently.

Rodney didn't meet her eyes for a moment, but when he did his gaze was intense. “Once you get out of here, and you're feeling up to it, I was kind of wondering... would you like to get dinner sometime?”

Teyla thought about it for a moment, rolling the question around in her mind. “Would this be a date?” she asked.

Rodney stared at her some more. Then, eventually he nodded. “Yeah. A date.”

Teyla smiled. “I believe I would like that,” she said. She thought of the piano in Rodney's apartment and the way he handled computers and the way he smiled sometimes when he talked about the people or things that he cared about.

“I believe I would like that a lot.”


End file.
